


Your Voluntary Love

by little Alex (litalex)



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-06-01
Updated: 2001-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-19 23:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litalex/pseuds/little%20Alex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ivan confuses himself and Byerly helps him along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Voluntary Love

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine (duh!). They all belong to Ms. Lois McMaster Bujold. Regardless of liking this story or not, please do read her excellent, excellent books.
> 
> Spoiler: anything and everything up to and including _A Civil Campaign_. Set half a year after the book, right after Miles' wedding. Deviates from _Diplomatic Immunity_ and "Winterfair Gift".
> 
> Feedback/E-mail: But of course; good or bad, at litalex at gmail dot com
> 
> Story Notes: Title's from W. H. Auden's "Song." It's a bit of a parody, sort of, which might account for the more than strange characterizations.
> 
> Personal Notes: Anything that makes sense is Marina's fault; all remaining mistakes are mine, of course.

Ivan Vorpatril groaned when the sunlight repeatedly thumped against his closed eyelids with a sledgehammer.

Okay, it didn't, but it sure felt like it, partly because of his enormous hangover, partly because he had never been a morning person, regardless of his military training and post. God, he should never have drunk that much last night. But it was Miles' wedding and Ivan was, despite all appearances, damn happy for the little man. In fact, he still was, but enough about Miles. Eyes still closed, he stretched and his right hand hit something soft.

Ah, he slept with someone last night. Well, that was hardly a rare occurrence, but what was rare was that he couldn't, for the life of him, remember who she was. Or what he did last night. Or, quite frankly, anything that had happened last night. Hmm. Oh-oh.

He blinked his eyes open, saw a head of dark hair on the next pillow, and looked under the blanket. Yes, he was completely naked. His glance turned sideways warily and encountered another naked body, slender and lightly tanned. Smooth, long back, complete with long legs and narrow hips; tight, firm buttocks, perfectly round. Mmm, nice, though a bit on the muscular side and not much curvature. Warning bells bellowed in his head and Ivan grabbed one of the rather broad shoulders, noting subconsciously how silky the skin was, and turned the person over.

It was Byerly Vorrutyer.

"Oh my fucking God!" he yelled, scrambling out of bed, effectively waking up Byerly.

Byerly turned onto his side, covered his head with a pillow, and mumbled, "God, don't yell in the morning, would you?"

Ivan ignored the request and continued in the same volume and pitch. "You, you, why the hell are you in my bed naked?" Well, actually it was quite obvious, but Ivan was hoping for a reason that didn't involve sex. *Any* reason.

Sitting up, Byerly stretched languidly and flashed an extremely amused smile. "Why, darling, you don't remember?" He clutched his chest theatrically. "I'm so hurt! And to think, you were *so* loving last night."

Ivan blanched and sank down. Luckily, a chair was there to break his fall. Byerly slipped out of bed, much more gracefully than Ivan had, and padded toward the bathroom.

Ivan regained enough of his mind to exclaim, "You're *not* using my shower!"

Byerly stopped and quickly turned around with a sardonic smirk. Yes, completely Milesian. "Ivan, I know your observational powers are rather weak, but I think you truly should look at your surroundings more clearly before telling me whose shower I'm not using."

His mouth already opened for another jibe, Ivan blinked, looked around the room, and snapped close his mouth. Yes, Byerly was right; the shower didn't belong to Ivan at all. Damn. Ivan stood up and walked up to Byerly, face as blank as he could make it. "Can I shower first? I have to report to work at oh-eight hundred."

His head tilted, Byerly raised his eyebrows. "You do realize that today is Saturday, right? And," he said, his hand reaching for Ivan's chest, "we can always share."

Ivan stumbled a step back and would have probably fallen, if not for Byerly's swift grip on his arm. He shook off the hand and declared sternly, "I, uh, I'll wait until you're finished."

Byerly laughed and walked back to the bed, the mussed up bed that Ivan just got out of, the bed that they apparently had se-- did absolutely nothing in. Oh, hell. Ivan finally noticed that Byerly was facing him and his mouth was moving. Ivan concentrated.

"--shower," Byerly was saying, "I'm going to grab some more sleep." Relieved, Ivan ran inside the 'fresher and had almost closed the door when Byerly's voice floated through the air again. "Oh, and lock the door when you leave, okay?"

*****

Naked in Ivan's lap, Byerly was kissing Ivan passionately.

The fully clothed Ivan was, of course, kissing back just as passionately; reciprocation was the key to great sex, after all. While he did wonder about how they ended up in this position, Byerly's lips and tongue were far too skillful for Ivan to care. Sweet and perfect, the swift fall into lust obliterated the small nagging voice at the back of Ivan's mind. His hands appreciating the silky and resilient skin, Ivan explored Byerly's lean body with all the excitement of the first time with a new bedmate.

Byerly's muscles didn't contain much bulk, but were very well defined, especially those six-pack abs that set Ivan's mouth watering. Flexible body, Ivan assessed and his cock wriggled in agreement. Various creative and difficult positions popped into his mind and Ivan wondered if he should start holding demonstrations at the Orb of Unearthly Delights. One of his hands meandered to a firm buttock and Ivan stopped thinking altogether. He pulled away from the alluring mouth and nibbled his way to Byerly's jaw, the skin sweet with the scent of some cologne.

Arms under Byerly's knees, Ivan allowed himself to fall forward and they landed on the mattress, Byerly squirming deliciously under Ivan. Their clothes quickly disappearing, Byerly suddenly twisted and turned them over, and now Ivan was lying on his back, Byerly straddling his hips, their erections rubbing gently against each other. Gasping at the contact, Ivan clutched Byerly's forearms, knowing that something wasn't right. Byerly ignored him, however, and retrieved the use of his hands. Slightly bent forward, one hand laid flat on the mattress for support, he caressed Ivan's chest with the other, occasionally brushing against their erections.

Unsatisfied with the too light touches, Ivan poked his cock against Byerly's hip but Byerly slapped it lightly in warning. Subsiding, Ivan danced his fingers up and down Byerly's supporting arm instead. On one of its journeys up, Byerly's hand eventually ended up on Ivan's cheek and the thumb slipped into Ivan's mouth. Ivan hesitated for a moment and then sucked gently on it, swiping away droplets of sweat with his tongue. Byerly's skin was burning hot, leaving marks on Ivan's flesh, and Ivan longed for something cooler.

Where was the damned temperature control? The heat in the room seemed far too unreal, far too overwhelming. His mind was still screaming about something, but his senses were too assaulted to register. Then Byerly abruptly withdrew his hand and sat back up into a vertical position, his buttocks pressing down on Ivan's aching erection. Afraid that Byerly would rebuke him again, Ivan didn't try poking his arousal anywhere this time. Eyes on Byerly's mouth, Ivan pinched a nipple instead, wishing those lips around his cock, and a gasp rewarded his efforts. Grinning, Ivan arched up for a soft bite, but Byerly's hand, pressing on his chest, kept him on the bed.

The grin presently dropped, Ivan blinked and knew that the question was obvious in his eyes. Byerly, however, merely bent down and kissed him. Mentally shrugging, Ivan steadied his hands on Byerly's flank, counting the ribs with his thumbs, and Byerly shivered at the touch. Ivan stroked his hands down and they settled on Byerly's hips, the bones and sinews shifting constantly but minutely under his touch, but Byerly began slipping away.

Surprised, Ivan tried grasping those hips, but Byerly escaped entirely. Well, not too entirely, for the man was now kneeling between Ivan's thighs, his mouth centimeters away from Ivan's arousal. Partially propped up on one elbow, Ivan wanted to drag the head down or push his own hips up, but his hand only hovered in air. Byerly seemed to have gotten the hint, however, and engulfed Ivan's cock easily.

Collapsing on the bed, a scream of his bedmate's name rushing out of him, Ivan came and promptly woke up.

*****

Miles Vorkosigan admitted freely that he babbled when he was happy. Well, not just happy; when ecstatic, maybe. But, oh, did he not have the most perfect reason to be happy? No, rapturous! He and Ekaterin were finally husband and wife!

Not that Ivan seemed to care about Miles' speech habits or, indeed, noticed. Ivan was apparently too wrapped up in his own problems to process much of what Miles had said (or, to put it harshly, too slow to understand much of what Miles had said, but Miles usually tried not to voice such thoughts).

Miles, to his credit, did eventually realize that Ivan hadn't said one single word during the visit, which had already amounted to, oh, one hour. This was fine with Miles, to tell the truth, since he only wanted someone, anyone, to babble to when both Ekaterin and Nikki were at school, but it might not be so fine for Ivan. Miles moved smoothly from ecstatic to joyful but rather concerned.

"What's wrong?" A whole minute passed and Miles was completely ready to ask again when Ivan finally answered.

"Coz', I need to ask you something."

Miles nodded. The few seconds he was prepared to wait stretched into thirty. Miles cleared his throat.

Ivan took a deep breath, paused, exhaled, obviously decided that one wasn't enough, and took another. Squaring his shoulders, he opened his mouth and paused again. Eventually he only said, "Can I have some of your maple mead?"

Miles was mildly surprised. All right, frankly shocked, but the only signs of that, Miles trusted, were the jumps of his eyebrows. He signaled at his Armsman and suavely pointed out a well-known fact about Ivan and the alcohol. "You *hate* that stuff. You said it's brewed from old socks."

Ivan shrugged and countered with another well-known fact about the beverage. "It's also the strongest drink known to Barrayar." Soon, the servants came back with a bottle of maple mead and a tall glass.

Miles let Ivan finish a large gulp directly from the bottle before asking again. "So, what's wrong?"

"Have you ever--?" Here the words stopped.

Miles was very tired of waiting. "Either get to it or quit talking about it!"

"I haven't even started yet!" Ivan wilted under Miles' glower. "Okay. Have you ever been attracted to a man?"

"No."

Ivan's eyes pleaded with him. "Not even remotely?"

Miles considered. Well, there was Bel, but Bel was a hermaphrodite. "I've kissed a hermaphrodite back, but we didn't do anything else. And it isn't really a man." Looking back at Ivan, Miles smirked. "Why? Having trouble getting the women and planning to move onto the men?"

Ivan only looked at Miles miserably.

Miles laughed. "Oh, come on. Everyone has those thoughts occasionally."

"Yeah, but not everyone wakes up with a man in his bed!" Ivan burst out and then looked horrified, probably at himself.

Okay, *now* Miles was frankly shocked. No, make that completely, thoroughly shocked. Ivan Vorpatril woke up with a man in his bed? Wow. "Were you two-- clothed at the time?" Phew, good save, he nearly said "naked".

Shaking his head, Ivan drew up his knees and wrapped his arms around them, looking completely ready to cry. God, Miles had reduced Ivan to tears. Well, no, the situation had and it was rather scary, since Ivan simply...didn't cry. The whole picture reminded Miles of the time they were at Cetaganda and Ivan couldn't, er, perform. Wait, no, this was actually worse. At least Ivan only had the wounded pride look on his face then. Now the man had the bewildered look, too.

It tugged at Miles' heart and Miles cursed the affection he still held for his cousin. He attempted a placation, "Is it Count Dono?" If it were, then Miles was very much going to kill Dono, fellow Party member or not, friend or not; though Miles rather doubted that anyone, including Ivan, could lure Count Dono away from Olivia.

Ivan looked up and focused on the wall for a short while, his face gaining that dreamy smile, no doubt thinking of the time he spent with Lady Donna. Then Ivan shook his head and his smile was replaced by another teary frown. "At least I'd have an excuse then. No, it's," Ivan said, taking another large gulp of air, "By."

"Byerly Vorrutyer?" It actually made absurd sense, in a disgusting sort of way. "You sure know how to pick them."

"And it's all your fault!"

Miles laughed. It wasn't nice, but Ivan kept inviting it. "Why would it be my fault that you chose to go Betan all of a sudden?"

"You got me drunk at your wedding reception!" Ah, good, now Ivan was angry, which was a damn sight better than miserable.

Miles did a quick calculation. "It took you three weeks to tell me? And here I thought we're friends, too."

"I actually couldn't remember anything about that night. I wouldn't have told anyone, if not for the dreams." Aw, the miserable look was back.

"Dreams. Wet dreams, I presume. My, aren't you a little old for them?"

"Nightmares are more like it!"

"If I'd only known earlier. I could have sent Byerly to scare my opponents instead of sending my Dendarii troops. Wouldn't have lost so many people." It was Miles' turn to smile dreamily, though his was still mixed with light bitterness. Then he shook his head a little and focused back on Ivan. "Well, if you ask me, which I assume you're asking, you have two options: A.) Find a man and have sex with him--"

"God, no!"

"--to see if you actually like it. My guess is that you won't, which ends your whole problem." Ivan seemed to be wavering between relieved and scared to death. As was his wont, Miles ignored his cousin. "B.) Find Byerly and ask him what happened. Knowing By, I think he's just playing a trick on you." A thought struck him. "Or C.)--"

"You said two choices!"

"--Have sex with By again, which would definitely clarify both questions."

"I don't know if I had sex with him in the first place!"

"Well, if you're dreaming about him..." Ivan actually banged his head on the table a few times before Miles managed to move out of his chair and stop him. Miles patted Ivan's shoulder a few times, looked clinically at him, and then sighed. "Oh, all right. I'll ask By--"

Ivan gave Miles the horrified look again. "No! I'll ask him myself!"

His small mission accomplished, Miles smirked and delightedly watched Ivan realize what he'd just said. Ivan tried to bang his head again, but Pym hauled him out of the chair before any damage was done this time. Well, any further damage, since Ivan's brain was rather, um, damaged already.

*****

Ivan fidgeted in front of Byerly Vorrutyer's apartment door. Hoping that Byerly was away, Ivan hadn't called beforehand. If Byerly was gone, then Ivan could go back, tell Miles that he'd done exactly what Miles suggested, and then forget the whole thing. Ivan, of course, ignored the fact that if he had the ability to forget the whole thing in the first place, Miles wouldn't have been involved.

Unfortunately, Byerly answered the door the moment Ivan buzzed the intercom. Ivan took a step back, mildly surprised at the speed it was answered. Byerly must have been waiting right behind the door, Ivan suspected, but went inside the apartment quietly when his host swept out a mockingly gallant arm. Ivan glanced at the intercom, which confirmed his suspicions by showing the now empty hallway, and then at Byerly.

Byerly merely smiled, but the smile was so close to the one in Ivan's dreams that Ivan wanted to-- The smile abruptly dropped and Byerly's expression turned concerned. "Are you all right?" He reached his hand toward Ivan's shoulder, the fingers long and tapered and just perfect for sucking, and Ivan jumped. A puzzled frown on his face, Byerly looked at his own hand, looked at Ivan, and looked at his hand again. At last, he shrugged and shoved both his hands into his pockets. "Tea? Coffee?"

"Coffee is fine." Plagued by his high Vor upbringing, Ivan couldn't stop himself from adding a "Thank you."

The picture of a perfect host, Byerly waved at the sofa and floated into his kitchen. Ivan sat down into the surprisingly comfortable piece of furniture and various kitchen sounds emerged. Eventually, so did Byerly's voice. "Ivan, do you drink your coffee with cream, sugar, or both?"

Ivan considered helping. No, let Byerly do all the work, because Ivan would have to stand very close to Byerly if they were both inside that kitchen. That meant Ivan would be tempted to kiss the man again and let's stop this train of thought right *here*. "Black!" he shouted.

Carrying two cups of coffee, Byerly walked out a moment later and handed one to Ivan. He sat down into the armchair opposite Ivan's and sipped the contents of his cup with closed eyes. God, the man looked so good when he was obviously enjoying something. Ivan hastily took a sip himself but didn't feel the peace that Byerly apparently had. He took a large gulp next.

Byerly finally opened his eyes and smiled, raising Ivan's heart rate again. "How do you like it? It's from real coffee beans."

It took Ivan a full twenty seconds to remember that real coffee beans only grew on Earth. "They must have cost a fortune!" Miles definitely could afford it, but Byerly?

Byerly must have read Ivan's thoughts, for he waved his hand and explained, "It's a gift from Dono. Olivia loves coffee and so, he buys that stuff in liters."

Relieved, Ivan nodded and then tensed again. Why would Dono give Byerly any gift at all? What if Byerly and Dono-- No, no, Dono was in love with Olivia. Ivan frowned as Byerly's expression turned serious.

"So, what made you chance by my humble abode?"

Ivan blinked. Byerly was being far too straightforward. Well, for Byerly, at least. And Byerly was actually presentable without that frivolous air. Very presentable. Ivan swallowed and forced out of his mouth the first few words that came up in his mind. "I--you--we--" He stopped, thought, and started again. "What happened that night?"

Byerly, the bastard, had the gall to bat his eyelashes, which, unfortunately, worked on Ivan. Damn. "Now, what night are you talking about? We've spent so many together, you know." At Ivan's glare, Byerly sighed. "Nothing," he answered. "Absolutely nothing happened."

Unable to believe the bald-faced lie, Ivan actually leapt across the coffee table and grabbed Byerly's collar. "Tell me!" Mmm, Ivan could just feel how long and graceful Byerly's neck was and he longed to lick-- No! Focus!

Byerly's eyes weren't wide with fear, but close enough. "Let go!" he choked.

Resisting a lingering caress, Ivan released his grip and sat back down onto the sofa. "Then tell me."

"Fine. I fucked you and you begged for more." This time, Byerly's eyes glinted rather dangerously.

Ivan's appreciation ran straight to his cock. Admonishing himself, Ivan noted the flippant tone and refused to believe the statement. "You're lying."

Byerly rolled his eyes. "Does it matter? You won't believe what I say anyway."

Did it matter? No, it didn't, because all Ivan could think of right now was how pink and wet Byerly's lips were and how agilely the man moved and licked those lips. Not hearing one single word Byerly was currently saying, Ivan crossed the short distance again, pinned Byerly to the chair, and captured that talkative mouth with his own.

"Mmmph!" Byerly struggled, pushing at Ivan's chest and shoulders, but since Byerly didn't employ the more effective ways of stopping an assailant -- mainly kneeing him in the groin and biting his tongue -- Ivan ignored the attempts and kissed Byerly into submission. The sweet taste of sugar and cream filled Ivan's mouth as Byerly began to kiss back, almost timid, and Ivan could taste the slightly bitter flavor of coffee again. When Ivan finally pulled back, both of them panting, Byerly's eyes were now glazed with obvious lust.

Watching the swollen lips, Ivan let the grip of desire wash over his body and knew with absolute conviction that he had to have this man; no other alternatives existed. It no longer mattered that he had never had sex or wanted to have sex with another man before. He had had vague ideas on how two men would have sex, but now these ideas had crystallized into startlingly hot images, impossible to resist.

Eyes combing for any shred of remaining resistance but finding none, Ivan put Byerly's arms around his neck and hooked his own arms under Byerly's legs. A smile again gracing the supple mouth, Byerly raised an eyebrow at Ivan's exaggerated care, no doubt amused at being treated like a skittish virgin on her wedding night. As Ivan began the journey to the bedroom he had so hastily left the other day, however, Byerly remained quiet and simply tightened his arms around Ivan's neck.

Watching Byerly's bemused expression, Ivan crossed over the threshold and laid his bedmate very gently onto the bed. Climbing onto the springy mattress himself, Ivan straddled Byerly's hips and reached for Byerly's collar, now for caresses instead of the nearly deadly grip earlier. Ivan's hands were steady as they began unbuttoning the shirt, for which their owner was grateful. Sighing, Byerly tipped his head back at the contact, inviting more of Ivan's touch. His lips now pressed against the throat, Ivan licked and sucked on the jugular. His arms wrapped loosely around Ivan's shoulders, Byerly wound his right hand into Ivan's hair, playing with the short spikes, as his left hand gripped Ivan's left shoulder far too tightly.

Without protestation, Ivan broke from the circle of Byerly's arms right after he undid the last button. As Ivan reached for the now opened garment, Byerly shook his head and sat up, taking off the shirt himself. Ivan also climbed onto his knees and locked gazes with Byerly, his desire rising exponentially. Byerly continue to strip, now sitting on the edge of the bed, and Ivan began shedding his clothes, too. Soon, both were naked and looking at each other, Byerly's eyes lingering on Ivan's chest. Ivan's eyes, however, were on Byerly's cock. Long and thick, it jutted from curls darker and coarser than the short hair on Byerly's head.

And quite suddenly, all Ivan wanted to do was to close his mouth on the red cock and taste the droplets of pre-come glistening at the tip of the nearly purple tip. Ignoring his dry mouth, Ivan solemnly reached a hand out, which Byerly grasped without hesitation. Ivan pulled sharply and Byerly landed on top of him as Ivan himself fell face-up onto the mattress, their cocks pressed tightly against each other. They both gasped and Ivan immediately raised his chin, capturing the lightly-bruised mouth again. God, all Ivan's dreams were true: Byerly did kiss like an angel, especially when he *was* participating.

In fact, this was going exactly like his dreams, if the bent head hovering near his cock was any evidence. Ivan could only hope that it wouldn't end the same as his dreams, with his coming the moment Byerly's mouth was on him. His fears were laid to rest as Byerly softly, almost delicately, took Ivan's erection into his mouth. Oh, good God. So warm, so wet. Ivan had received blowjobs before, of course, but never one where the giver wanted it as much as Ivan did.

And then there was Byerly's uncanny knowledge on Ivan's body. The man knew exactly where to lick, where to suck, where to press, and when to slow down so that Ivan hovered at the edge without falling over. But finally, after long minutes of this torturous pleasure, Byerly's mouth ceased to be what Ivan wanted. He wanted inside, wanted a good long fuck where he didn't have to remember not to choke Byerly. And Byerly's jaws must be damn tired by now, too. Decision made, Ivan tapped Byerly's cheek softly.

Byerly looked up and leisurely let go of the cock inside his mouth. "What?" he asked, with no sign of fatigue.

"I want to fuck you."

His body in tense lines, Byerly rolled back onto his back. "We *are* fucking."

"You know what I mean."

Byerly turned onto his side, half propped up on an elbow. "Do I?" He pressed two fingers against Ivan's mouth before Ivan could say anything.

Grasping Byerly's hand with his own, Ivan twirled his tongue around the tip of the fingers and then sucked them down.

Byerly was staring at Ivan's mouth intently. "Give me a blowjob and you can do whatever you want."

Ivan immediately looked down to Byerly's groin. His desires still remained, but there was no way he could equal Byerly in skill or talent.

Byerly must have taken the hesitation as refusal and smiled in bitter triumph. "I knew you couldn't."

Swallowing, Ivan held Byerly's gaze somberly and deliberately moved down the bed. Apprehensive, he licked the leaking tip gently and reminded himself that yes, he did want this. He opened his mouth fully and took in the tip, but Byerly suddenly pulled away.

Before Ivan could ask, however, Byerly had already grasped and tipped up Ivan's chin. "Apparently you need to learn the cardinal rule when giving head. No teeth, Ivan."

Ivan jerked his chin away from Byerly's grip, but nodded. Slightly annoyed, he pointed at Byerly's cock. "Do you want me to do it or not?"

Byerly's expression turned amused again. "Oh, yes. Please do go on."

His lips now covering the edges of his teeth, Ivan returned to his task with impatience. He held the base almost too tightly and sucked with quick roughness. Apparently, Byerly actually liked it rough, for he began panting not long after.

Minutes afterward, Byerly finally exclaimed, "You don't -- fuck! -- have to -- shit! -- swallow when I -- oh, hell! -- come!"

Ah, hmm. Ivan hadn't thought of that at all. Mentally shrugging, he engulfed the whole cock and Byerly suddenly did come, spurting down Ivan's throat and all. When Ivan slid back up the bed, Byerly was staring at him in wide-eyed wonder.

Ivan frowned. "What?"

"You sure you haven't done this at all?"

"'Course not."

"Just my luck that you can deep-throat then, right?"

Deep-what? Oh, that. Ivan shrugged. "Is that what it's called? One of the girls mentioned it once." Ivan looked back toward Byerly. "So, how should I, um, do it?"

"Ah, that, yes." Byerly stared at the bed and then pointed a finger at the bedside table. "Lube is in the first drawer."

Ivan followed the implicit order and opened the drawer. After some rummaging, he fished out a bottle of -- he turned over the bottle and read the label -- massage oil, made of lily and jasmine. He opened it and looked back at Byerly, who apparently understood the unasked question and took the tube from Ivan's hand. Then Byerly poured some of the liquid directly onto Ivan's erection, which jumped at the coldness, along with its owner.

"What the--?" Ivan exclaimed and then caught the bottle when Byerly threw it back to him.

Byerly turned onto his stomach, cheek now pressed against his arms, which were on one of the pillows. "Grab a pillow, put it under my hips." He paused as Ivan quickly obeyed him. "Now pour some of the oil onto your fingers and put it into me."

Ivan followed the first order, but hesitated before the second. That small little hole? Well, Byerly was the expert here. Ivan gently pushed his finger inside, meeting no resistance. Encouraged, he pulled his finger out, poured some more oil onto his hand, and tried again, this time with two fingers. After a few more tries, Byerly pronounced them ready and murmured, "Do it."

His hand on Byerly's left hip, Ivan grasped his own arousal and sank slowly into the other man. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck! A snug heat had enveloped his flesh, refusing to let go, and Ivan could float in this bliss forever. No woman he screwed had ever been this tight. Eventually, he regained enough of his mind to realize that Byerly had been calling his name. He murmured, "Yes?"

"Kneel up," Byerly moaned.

Smiling smugly, Ivan obeyed the request, pushing Byerly to his knees in the process. "Anything else?"

"Huh?" Byerly breathed deeply a few times. "Slightly to the left." Another moan as Ivan did exactly that. "Perfect," Byerly gasped, but when Ivan snaked his hand underneath Byerly's abdomen, he found Byerly's cock soft. Frowning lightly, Ivan put his hand around Byerly's organ and administered a few broad strokes. It hardened under Ivan's hand and finally Byerly just shoved back with a demand of "Move, damn it!"

'God, what a prick,' Ivan thought and his body, enjoying the solid feel of Byerly's arousal, supplied, 'In more ways than one.' Snorting at his own feeble joke, Ivan pulled back a little and pushed quickly back in, eliciting a long groan. He repeated the movement with more vigor and received a stretched out whimper. Ivan smiled. Byerly was so responsive. One hand on Byerly's hip and the other still around Byerly's erection, Ivan drove into the lithe body again and again, in sync with the strokes of his hand.

They settled into a swift pace easily and Ivan was mindless with pleasure. As the harsh moans of "Harder!" and "Faster!" grew louder, Ivan retrieved his hand from under Byerly's body and held Byerly's hips still. He pounded into Byerly with much more force than he would have any woman, half afraid that he was hurting Byerly but unable to stop. He placated the nagging little voice with the fact that Byerly asked for this almost punishing rhythm. No, demanded it with enough strength behind that voice to shock Ivan.

That level of intensity could only belong to a man, at least on Barrayar, and Ivan understood suddenly that sex was as much a subtle power game to Byerly as the social play in which they were both involved. That hardly mattered now, however, for Ivan would rather focus on the smooth expanse of skin in front of him. Listening to Byerly's luxurious moans, Ivan ceased the movement of his hips, bent down, and licked a short trail from a shoulder blade to Byerly's nape. Warm skin, slightly salty and musky from their strenuous exercise. Ivan knelt up, grasped those hips again, and shoved back into that voluptuously tight heat, a breathless "Fuck!" rewarding his efforts. Their rhythm swiftly regained, both fell back into the overwhelming pleasure with abandon.

All endeavors, however pleasurable, had to end eventually; and sex was no exception. After what seemed like hours, Ivan came powerfully inside the taut passage. Spent, he fell face-up back onto the bed and watched Byerly collapse. The rapidly sharp rises and falls of Byerly's shoulders evened out and gentle snores eventually emerged. Ivan sighed and closed his eyes.

*****

Ivan woke up to sunlight assaulting his eyelids. Again. He groaned and opened his eyes. The room wasn't his own and he was temporarily confused. Glancing around, he saw Byerly sitting right next to him, back against the headboard, knees bent with arms curled around them. Ivan looked up and met Byerly's gaze.

"So, where are the hysterics of waking up beside another man?" Byerly's voice was carefully bland.

Ivan stretched and sat up until he, too, was leaning against the headboard. "So something did happen that night."

Byerly allowed a grin onto his lips. "If you call a few sloppy kisses something, then sure, something happened."

"But I was naked--"

"--only because I took your clothes off after you fell asleep." Ivan's eyes widened in anger, but Byerly swiftly continued. "In the middle of kissing me, I might add." Ivan's indignant glare turned immediately into an apologetic look, which Byerly ignored. "You were murmuring some girl's name, if I recall correctly. I was, surprisingly," -- the last word said with a slightly bitter smile -- "insulted." Byerly eyed the sheepish Ivan for a few moments. "You know the rest."

Eyes closed, Ivan leaned back and faced the ceiling. He finally looked at Byerly again and gestured at their nudity. "So, you had sex with me because of what? Revenge?"

The glare Byerly gave him was sharp enough to cut glass, and suddenly a cold smile invaded Byerly's mouth. "Must I remind you, Vorpatril," he said, climbing out of bed, "that you'd have raped me in my living room if I hadn't given in?"

Ivan flinched. "I would've never done that. And you know it." He followed Byerly out of bed and began picking up his clothes, putting on each piece as he gathered it up.

Refusing to meet Ivan's eyes, Byerly roughly and quickly dressed. "Probably not," he finally admitted, halfway in buttoning his shirt. He jerked his gaze back into Ivan's eyes. "God, if you only have even half of Miles' observational skills."

Puzzled, the now clothed Ivan walked over to Byerly and put his right hand on his -- bedmate's? -- companion's left shoulder. "What?"

Wrenching his shoulder away from Ivan's hand, Byerly turned around and strode to the doorway. "Look at the damned sheets," he threw over his shoulder and marched out of the room, slamming the door.

Ivan walked back to the bed and looked at the "damned sheets," but found nothing more than stained linen. Yuck. He looked around more and his gaze finally landed on the nearly unnoticeable traces of red-brown. Blood, it looked like and Ivan tried to remember if either he or Byerly had any wounds. When he finally realized where the blood came from, he blanched, recalling all of Byerly's reluctance, and raced out of the room.

Sitting at the table, Byerly was sipping coffee and reading a data pad. He kept his gaze on the pad but uttered a disdainful "Well?"

Ivan sank down into the chair next to Byerly's. "You--" he said, staring, "you couldn't be--"

Byerly glanced at him but returned to his reading material. "I couldn't be what?"

Ivan grabbed the extra cup of coffee and took a large gulp. "A virgin."

Byerly threw the pad onto the table and picked up his coffee. "You're determined not to let me read something in peace, aren't you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ivan rolled his eyes. "Like you were reading in the first place." Prying the cup away from Byerly's hand, Ivan covered the hand with his own. "Were you?" he asked, returning to the earlier subject.

Byerly yanked his hand back. "A virgin? Of course not." Ivan's look remained steady and Byerly dutifully added, "But, yes, that was the first time I've let anyone top me." He flashed a rueful smile. "Never thought you'd call my bluff."

Ivan nodded, his heart pounding at the implications behind that simple fact. "Now what?"

"Now?" Byerly shrugged. "You go back to your string of women and I go back to my various entertainments." He gathered the cups into one hand and walked into the kitchen.

Ivan sat for a moment more and then followed Byerly to the kitchen door. "That's it?" Leaning against the doorframe, Ivan studied the other man, who was now putting away the cups.

Staring at Ivan in thoughtful silence, Byerly walked back to his guest and, his grin no more than scant centimeters away from Ivan's mouth, murmured, "Unless you'd like to repay the favor." When Ivan stayed frozen after nearly a minute had passed, the grin turned knowing and slightly sad. "All right," Byerly said, backing away, still looking at Ivan. "You know where the door is."

Ivan swallowed heavily. Voice a little rough, he finally called out, "Don't." Byerly's smirk slowly returning, Ivan walked to Byerly and kissed that talented mouth again. They returned to the bedroom, Ivan thinking that he had somehow been out-manipulated again. As Byerly's mouth enveloped Ivan's cock again, however, Ivan couldn't find it in himself to regret any of it.

/~~finis~~/


End file.
